reflections on santos & sorry the yanks rhyme with tanks *and* spanks

dear readers,

last night was part chipping away at midterms and part making magic in the moonlit hours of the santos dance floors. all us ladies were like honey to the beez. it beez that way sometimes. ?uest’s dj set was almost implausible, he was whipping up heady combos of hip hop gold and r&b love. and even though the yanks tanked, folks was out with smiles and cmj passes on.

tommy motola, lived long ago. we are so in synch tonight, suddenly me and him are two stepping to killah, that was after he tore down the cypher, after i turned out the cypha, but before he spun and dipped me into the crevices of hip hop canyons. downstairs was soca, aka wyn music, cept when “i am blessed” comes on, at which point even the rattiest of rats come back to queen, stop making out at coat check, picturing our moms praying and shit.

navratri celebration tonight at the ailey studios, we gonna bust out the dandia sticks, celebrate the moon, dancing the old country way. fierce. but first i’m going to head over to harlem lanes, to help raise money for FIERCE, and lgbt youth of color org.

peace!

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